Renato shook his head and pulled out a cigarette, “Unfortunately no, I come up with nothing. It is sad, I have failed our mistresses, perhaps they will have to punish me yes?” He smirked. 

“You wish, Ren,” said Jo with an eyeroll. “Did you find anything, Laurent?”

Laurent simply shook his head. “Non mon ami. Despite my best of effort.” he shrugged and patted Jo on the leg.

“Ami?” asked Jo with a grin. “Does that mean love?”

Laurent nodded. “I took his lead.” he pointed at Ren. “He seems to go for the women in charge, I wished not to leave you out. If you are upset by this, I will no more use the term, but it would be a shame for a woman such as yourself to be left in the cold.”

“Oh, I approve of the term. I’m ready for some ami whenever you’d like, Laurent, but never for pity. I understand that our bosses are quite the catches, but I wouldn’t want to be included just to be left out.” She smoothed her chestnut hair and flashed a winning grin. “Besides, Doc has been teaching me all kinds of fun Italian. I’ll be able to walk into any bar here and pick someone up in no time. No ‘left out in the cold’ for me.” She winked. “But I do appreciate the thought.”

Dr. Magnotti toasted her from the other side of the room.

Renato shook his head as he took a drag. “So it would seem, we are back to square one again. And this time with less leads than before. Unless you have something new to tell us Dottore?” Another drag as the ash at the end of the cigarette played a losing game against gravity.

“I know that the boss was on the phone for quite a while longer than usual last evening. And she did have a meeting with someone today. Perhaps this someone else will be pointing us in the right direction? Are you itching for action, Renato? Laurent- are those trigger fingers of your getting itchy? Tell me, what sort of gun do you prefer? I am a pacifist, I admit, but I still appreciate good craftsmanship.”

Renato only smiled at the word action and let that speak for itself.

Laurent nodded as he stroked his chin. “I do not mind an Enfield or a Springfield, but they are both American as you know. If only I could find something on this continent with the same firepower and accuracy. Though as I come to understand, the Germans and the Czechs are both working on new things to be played with.” He left the hint there and continued. “Sometimes though, the Arisaka, if you get a good one and take care of it, are the best I have ever used. You must modify them of course, add a stabilizing stock, extend the barrel by about a inch and then you have a real weapon.”

“Aha, the Americans do know their guns,” said the doctor.

“Arisaka? What country is that from?” asked Jo.

“Russia.” Laurent answered simply. When it came to guns, life was simple, answers were simple, cleaning, assembling, firing. All simple. People, they were harder. 

“How romantic. I’ve always wanted to go to Russia. But nursing school isn’t exactly the same as being an international soldier of fortune, I suppose.”

Laurent shook his head. “Don’t be too romantic about it. Russia is gone, the Soviets have nearly burned it to the ground.” He spat on the floor then.

“That’s sad. Guess I won’t be visiting anytime soon,” said Jo. “Did you fight in that whole… thing? You were probably too young, I’m guessing.”

“Many men were too young. Many men lied.” He cocked his head to the side and looked to Jo. “A few women too.” he reached out and took the cigarette from Renato and finished it before putting out the butt on the floor. “France was not going to lose that war, no matter what the Americans might think. Our people? We fought to remove the King once, women and children too. It would have been no different than removing VonBismark myself. My sisters might have done it if they had the chance.”

“Wow,” said Jo. Her eyes were so wide and wet that they could have been the Atlantic and the Pacific. “You must have been so scared, being so young.”

The veteran nodded. “Everyone is scared, young, old, it makes no difference when bullets do not care. Or bombs. Or men.” He smiled.

“Or whether you are a soldier with a rifle or a medic with a first aid kit,” said Magnotti.

Both Ren and Laruent nodded to that. “Here here.” said Ren as he pulled another cigarette out of his seemingly endless supply.

Laurent shook his head. “You do not know. Do not pretend to know Ren.”

Ren shrugged. “I know what it did to Italy. I know what it did to my family. I know what it did to make me learn what I know now. Is that not enough? It should be enough. Thank God it was the end of war and we will not see one again of that ilk for so long as we live. A whole generation, my father and his friends? Never heard from again. I think it has done enough to everyone for none of us to claim to be hurt more than others.”

Laurent scoffed and stood.

“Well I’m sure we can all agree that it was horrible to everyone,” said Jo. “But why talk about the past at all? I know for me, I’m hoping for a better future. That’s the reason I took this job in the first place. Nursing was never going to happen for me, so I needed to find something new.”

“I think you would make a fine nurse.” Ren piped up first with a trademark smile.

“I did,” said Jo with a sad smile. “Too fine. There was this doctor who kept pinching me. Eventually, I went to his office to complain and we… well… you know. He was married. His wife found out and got me canned. Now no hospital will hire me, so here I am. What about you, Ren? Why’d you sign up for something like this?”

Ren continued his smile while Jo spoke. “A large man in a wheelchair invited me to work for him. Then I saw his beautiful wife, and his two beautiful daughters. Then I found out I was going to help his daughters to search for yet another beautiful woman. What man could pass up an opportunity to be a hero to so many lovely ladies eh?” 

Jo smiled. “So you’re a knight in shining armor, then?”

Ren nodded. “Until I find my princess, and then, maybe the armor comes off.” He winked and Laurent coughed out loud. “Oh come Laurent, it is not like you ever did not sneak off to some village in the country to console a widow.” The veteran grew flush, and opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and said nothing as he walked over to the wall and leaned against it instead.

Jo waited for someone else to say something, but just as she’d decided to break the silence herself Brigitte walked into the room. “Tara wants to talk to everyone, if you can all take a seat. She’ll just be a minute.” Then she sat down next to Renato, who had started looking at her the way a dog looks at a steak. But Tara walked in before Ren could say anything, and they all quieted to listen to her.

Tara came into the room, Crupi her ever present shadow loomed just behind her.  The younger of the sisters had a very serious air about her. She looked at each person in turn and then finally spoke, her gaze on the elderly doctor first.  “Viola Montini has joined us. She is a former team member of Oriana’s, trained by the same people possessing many of the same skills. So far as we know she is the last person to see Oriana alive and well.  She believes she can pick up the trail that Oriana was following and lead us along it to the man who is now in possession of Oriana.”

Her eyes traveled as she spoke across Jo to Ren.  “Viola is skilled in the arts of infiltration and removal of dangerous targets.  While Oriana had regarded her to me as being ‘a decent woman’ … I also recognize that her presence represents a calculated risk to all of us.  Her future seems dependant upon two things… my father’s money and leaving us before we are in eye shot of Oriana who has already claimed her arm and would likely take the rest of her if given the chance.  I suspect we can trust her to make good on her word right up until she receives her final payment from my mother. At that point, I can not be sure what role she may play if any at all.”

Tara’s gaze passed on to Laurent, “Perhaps she finds a way to redeem herself for her past sins by helping this group and returns home with us once we’ve finished our mission… but is far more likely she will simply depart with her money in hand no matter what storm she’s deposited us into the middle of.”

She looked to her own sister, “I will not pretend that there isn’t another, more devastating option.  It is possible that she is either working for our enemy and walking us into a trap… or that she might turn on us once she has what she wants from my family.  I recognize very well that we hold the lion by its tail here and I regret that I had no better way to find the person I know all of you have dedicated so much time to finding.”

“Believe me when I say that I am proud of all the hardwork and effort each of you have put into this mission so far, but the deck is decidedly stacked against us.  The criminal underworld here is well-aware of our presence it would seem, and they are well-paid and well-threatened by this boogie man we are hunting to make them not cooperate with us.  Alas, we are left with only the option of either triggering the trap left for us, or by God’s grace accepting the gift of one of his former associates leading us right to his doorstep.”

“It doesn’t sound like there’s much of a choice,” said Dr. Magnotti with a shrug. “Although that’s easy for me to say since I’ll be waiting here on the plane.”

“I’m afraid not,”  Tara admitted grimly.  “Just the same, I thought you all deserved to know the state of affairs.  Ms. Montini is currently arranging a meeting with one of the last people that Oriana interacted with.  A local drug dealer. A man who had some association with the monster who has Oriana now. It’s possible he saw or heard something that will help point us in the direction that Oriana was moving, ideally straight towards the monster she was closing in on.  I suspect he believes, or planned for, it to be my mother who is hunting him.”

She smirked at Brigitte, “I don’t think the path to where he is will be paved in sunshine and rainbows as a consequence.  Even if it’s not a damn trap, if he was planning for mom hunting him, we can expect that there may be a good deal of trouble even before we reach this man’s ‘school.’  Also… I want you all to know what we’re likely to face once we do reach this place. Hesitation will prove deadly and the shock of it without any build-up might cause you to pause when you should not so…”  Tara looked to Laurent, she could not say why him first, perhaps it was something in his eyes that told her that he might understand what she was about to say and would least react to it?

“Francesco Bianchi is training young women to be assassins.  I don’t mean teenagers though I suppose some of them are based on what I’ve been told.”  Tara shook her head slowly, her face grim. “If he’s doing as he’s done before, I would not doubt that at his school we find children.  Perhaps very young girls… they have been conditioned. Trained. Abused. I can not paint a picture of the horrors of such a place for you because I am blessed to have never known such wretchedness.  Suffice to say, even the children will die for him.”

The words hung in the air, ugly and merciless in their truth. No one said anything. Dr. Magnotti looked resigned, while Laurent and Ren nodded grimly. Jo seemed the most bothered, but she followed everyone else’s lead and stayed silent. Crupi, as always when he was working, maintained a face that could have been chiseled out of granite.

“Oriana has been with Francesco now for weeks.”  Tara lifted her chin slightly, “She is strong but strong people in the wake of dark things, things they never wanted to think about again…” She wet her lips and considered her words carefully.

“I had hoped we would find her before this point, or find she’d not been captured as Viola seems to lead us to believe.  The enemy, however, has her and she is in hell. I can not say what she is capable of and I ask that each of you do all that you can to protect one another.  If you must hurt her to protect yourselves… you’ll do all that you can to ensure that the wounds you cause are not fatal. I … however, will hold none of you to account for anything that happens in self-defense.  I want you aware of that before we come into contact with her. Saving her… might mean freeing her from him and that alone. To think otherwise, would be to accept fairytales and this is certainly not that.”

Brigitte looked at Tara with concern, but nodded and didn’t say anything.

“You’re professionals.  I have trusted you with everything.  I will continue to trust all of you. I’m afraid we’re back to waiting… this time for Viola.  When the meeting is in place we’ll decide who is coming and who is staying behind. Then, we’ll go from there.”

The group nodded; there wasn’t much to say. Tara had covered everything. This wait, at least, shouldn’t be as long as the last one.

A few hours after she left, Viola returned, looking worse for wear. She was more pale than she had been, and she was sweating as well. She obviously hadn’t fully recovered from her injury, and had probably exerted herself. Viola leaned against Tara’s doorway and addressed her, sitting at her desk. 

“Ludovico Avaldi will meet you tonight at sundown outside the Teatro Carlo Felice. I wasn’t able to learn anything else about him, other than he’s a lowlife drug dealer who’s been in and out of jail.” She shrugged. She would have liked to learn more, but it was enough. Viola took a deep breath.

“I need to go lie down, so I won’t be joining you tonight. Just make sure you take at least one or two people who can use a gun. I don’t get paid if you get killed. Still, we’re probably safe for now. The longer you stay in one city, the less safe it’ll be. Francesco has good lines of communication, but he’s not a wizard. He has resources spread throughout the country, but there’s still a lot of communication that needs to happen before you walk into a death squad.” She paused.

“The private plane isn’t exactly subtle, though. Depending on where you’re headed next, you could always try to throw off the scent. If you’re going to Rome, send the plane to Venice and hop on a train… that kind of thing. Just an idea- not sure when I’ll be up again. Wake me if you need me.” Viola paused, waiting to see if Tara had any questions for her.

Tara put a hand out motioning for Viola to follow her and took the other woman down the hall to the room she herself had been sleeping in.  Unlike the cots bolted to the walls that her father and mother likely had slept in a time or two, the actual bed that had been her Aunt’s was far more comfortable.  Tara wouldn’t be using it, so she saw no reason not to let the injured woman who was so valuable to the team use it. 

“Appreciate the gesture, but you probably don’t want me in there.” She indicated her shoulder stump. “Lots of pus. Still healing. I think the doctor has a bed or two set up in his medical room, though. I might go there.”

“I’ll send in Dr. Magnotti and the nurse… they’ll change the gauze and bandages.  Can’t have you falling over dead from infection or even becoming feverish on this mission.  Someone will bring you some food too. You can toss the stuffed bear on the floor, it’s not mine, came with the plane.”  She sighed. “Thank you for your work today.”

Well, if the girl really wanted her in an actual bed, she wouldn’t fight it too hard. “Fine- thanks. You’re welcome. Don’t get killed.”

Tara smiled, but said nothing.  It was all the warmth she could or would expect from the other girl who she had to remind herself wasn’t too terribly different in age from herself.  Those eyes though, like Ori’s, had seen things she couldn’t fathom and it made her feel older somehow.

“Doctor.”  Tara entered the living area.  “I’ve sent Viola back to rest in my bed so she can get some decent sleep while we handle this next part.  Her arm was removed by a machete, she received some initial care from qualified physicians but I’m not sure how much after-care she’s had beyond what she’s done for herself.  I don’t want her falling over dead mid-mission or unable to guide us due to sickness. Could you look over her wounds & see how her healing is coming along? And Jo, would you help him in redressing them with clean dressings?  I can’t imagine it’s been easy for her to clean properly what with one arm and the nature of such a brutal injury.”

She looked to the men in the group, knowing they were as eager as she was to get underway, “Gentlemen, I think we’re finally ready for you to do something other than sit on your hands.  This meeting we have set up is with a man by the name of Ludovico Avaldi. It will take place at the opera house, Teatro Carlo Felice, tonight at sundown.”

“Crupi you will be with me, as you might expect.  Laurent, I think we might position you to give us cover fire should it become necessary to make an expeditious retreat.  Renato, how familiar are you with the area around the opera house?”

Renato shrugged. “I can make myself familiar before tonight. “He stood, and put another cigarette into his mouth, but failed to light this one. “Do you want me to look out for anything special? Other than your beautiful face of course.” He winked and then made for the door. “I will have a report in half of the hour.”

Renato makes his way to the Opera House as requested. A new hat lifted from a stall and a pair of gloves, spectacles low on his nose and a tiny bit of a stoop in his walk should make for good enough cover for the moment. He hangs about for a short time, watching, waiting. A coffee shop nearby provides enough cover for him to stop in, grab a cup and a bite while sitting outside and pretending to feed the birds.

Sadly, there is nothing out of the ordinary about the place. There are certainly no people nearby waiting to ambush anyone who comes up. Eventually, there is a man who decides to park himself against the far pillar of the opera house. It’s too early for it to be sunset, but too late for it to really be a coincidence. The man was probably doing the exact same thing Renato was. He sighed. This was going to be interesting.

Once he arrived back at the plane, after having removed his extra garments and storing them away for someone else, or himself, to use again later, he makes hie way back to Tara. “I am sorry miss, for the delay that is. I wish I could have been here sooner, but I did not want to return to you with empty hands. I have good news. You will not die there. A man waits for you, alone. He is certainly from the underground by appearance, though that may just be a front, I did not approach. I thought you would have it best to speak to him first. He waits in front of the opera house. The street is open, there are no snipers nearby. The street behind the building is also a way in, or out. He showed up early though, he is searching for us.” With that he tucked a cigarette behind his ear and waited for further instructions.

“I don’t want to spook this guy.”  Tara said thoughtfully. “If what you say is true and he came alone, if he sees more than just me and another person he might bolt.  Laurent I still want you covering us from afar with a gun. I don’t think I’m being overly cautious and if nothing else my mother will appreciate that I utilized your skills.  Crupi, as I said, you’ll be with me. Ren, good work. Hopefully this meeting is an uneventful one. We get our information and be on our way to the next leg of our journey.”

Tara knew Brigitte was not going to like her going alone but more than one of them might send the guy running.  That and they still had someone with them who Tara felt should continue to be watched carefully, “I don’t fully trust her,”  There was no need to say which her she was referring to.  

“One man, I should be able to handle this.  I’ll get the information we need and then we can be on our way.  You’re in charge until I get back.”

***

The Teatro Carlo Felice was the premier opera house- no, premier auditorium- in all of Genoa. Over one hundred years old, its columns presented a luxurious face to the streets. The sun had begun to slip beneath the horizon and shroud the streets in dusk. As men and women in formal wear made their way home from work or out for the evening, Ludovico Avaldi looked out of place. He was wearing an old, weather-stained coat, was leaning against the rightmost pillar, mostly in the shadows. He was smoking a cigar, and the flash of the match revealed keen eyes, leathery skin, and a suspicious-looking man who looked even more suspiciously at the world around him. 

Laurent had set up on a rooftop just down the street, not even a full block away. There was another shorter roof next door to him that he could jump to if he needed, and there was also a fire escape on the other side of the building. Three exits in case he needed. He checked his sidearm, and turned the safety off before setting it down directly next to where his perch was. If someone came, the split second could mean life or death. He would choose life still, for now.

He settled in then and watched through his scope the man leaning against the opera house. He scanned him for weapons as closely as he could and kept an eye to make sure that neither of his hands made for them.

Tara and Crupi approached.  Crupi close enough to assist her if there was trouble, but giving enough space that it was clear that she was able to carry on a conversation in some privacy if that was what her companion wanted. 

Tara sat on the bench, “Una bella serata.”  She gave the man another look over and once she was fairly sure it was the man she was here to meet she offered, “Sono Tara Mastrosimone.”

“Ludovico Avaldi. Ho sentito che vuoi parlarmi. Cosa vuoi?”

“"Voglio sapere dell'ultima conversazione che ha avuto Danielo Strozzi e sono disposto a pagare bene per tutti i dettagli.”

Ludovico studied the girl carefully, as well as her large bodyguard. He seemed thoughtful for a moment, like he didn’t expect the girl to be so direct. After a moment, he spoke in a ragged voice. 

"Lo renderò semplice per te. Sembri molto ricco, come se avessi un sacco di soldi. Sei fortunato. Ma io? Nessuna fortuna. Per tutta la vita, combatto per sopravvivere. Questa è la mia occasione per fare soldi e non mi mancherà. Se vuoi la mia conoscenza, avrò bisogno di un pagamento anticipato. Soldi freddi e pesanti. E nessuno di quei dollari americani. Le banconote - quelle lettere di credito - 10 sono  Basta per me. Oppure puoi fare un lavoro per me. C'è un gioielliere in città qui che vanta di tutti gli smeraldi che ha in casa. Dice che scopa sua moglie su un letto di smeraldo e inciampa su smeraldi nel suo salotto, tutta quella merda. Ma è ricco e so che ne ha almeno alcuni lì. Portami i tuoi smeraldi, poi ti darò quello che vuoi. O vuoi solo pagare?

Tara hesitated, “Possiamo andare in banca, ma rischiamo di essere visti insieme e potresti non vivere abbastanza a lungo da spendere ciò che viene trasferito OPPURE ..."  She hesitated and reminding herself it wasn't real, she tugged off the diamond engagement ring that Ori had stolen for her.

"Dimmi se pensi che il diamante e l'oro siano sufficienti."

"Forse è abbastanza. Quanti soldi hai su di te?" He looked at Tara, curious. The emeralds would be worth much more, but Ludovico wasn’t a man known for his patience. A bird in the hand, as they say, is worth two in the bush. “Se hai abbastanza soldi, te lo dirò.”

Tara nodded and produced all the lira she had in her purse, putting the cash and the ring into his hand.  “Se non è abbastanza, allora dovremo tirare i dadi con andare in banca."  

It’s just a stupid ring...

Ludovico looked down for a moment, then the ring and the cash disappeared in one of his many pockets.

“Hai guadagnato la tua storia. Ero nel magazzino. Verifica delle spedizioni.”

“Cosa stavi rubando?” asked Tara. Ludovico glared at her for a moment, then shrugged.

“Spedizioni di droga. Ad ogni modo, stavo controllando alcune scatole diverse, riempiendo le tasche. Poi ho sentito il trambusto: un uomo è stato portato nel magazzino e gettato a terra. Non sono stato sorpreso di vederlo, ma sono stato molto sorpreso di vedere che era una donna bellissima che gli ha fatto questo. La donna lo alzò in piedi, lo mise sulla sedia e lo legò ad esso. Ho riconosciuto Danielo Strozzi. Dopo quello ... quello che la donna ha fatto all'uomo è stato orribile. Ho visto molte cose brutte, ma niente del genere.”

Ludovico stopped to cross himself, then shook his head, trying to find the words. 

Tara tried not to focus on what Oriana was capable of doing.  She was desperate, and scared and she herself had done terrible things so … whatever Oriana had done, it could be forgiven.  Understood even. She was the victim here, the man just didn’t understand. Or, that’s what Tara told herself.

“La donna fece sanguinare Strozzi. Affettato. Sto dicendo tutta la verità. Ma la ragazza non sussultò. E non ha detto niente. La donna se ne andò per un po 'e pensò che avrei cercato di scappare. Ma poi la donna tornò con un machete e cominciò ad attaccarlo anche con quello. Alla fine, Strozzi si è rotto. Chi non lo farebbe? Strozzi disse che l'uomo che la ragazza stava cercando era vicino a una cattedrale. Lamentato per i turisti. Poi Strozzi le raccontò di un ricco gioco di poker in Toscana e questo era tutto ciò che sapeva. Il machete quindi prese le braccia e le gambe. Mi piace pensare che Strozzi morì quando la ragazza lo decapitò. Almeno aveva smesso di urlare. Lo seppellirono in pezzi.”

He stopped to cross himself again, shuddering.

“Quella donna è un diavolo.”

Tara imagined pulling her grandfather’s knife and shoving it repeatedly into the man’s kidney just to watch him bleed out at her feet before taking back her ring.  The irony of letting him walk away with it, when she and Ori had planned to retrieve Nona Bella’s rings together, wasn’t lost on her. She stared a moment after the man, knowing she would never see the small golden band and understated, if yet lovely, diamond ever again.  

The only other valuable she had on her that the man might have accepted was the watch her father had given her and there was no way she would dream of parting with it.  For one it was the only gift Grandpa Gavin ever gave her father. Two it had her mother’s face inside it. And lastly … and most grim … Tara wasn’t even sure she’d ever see Ori again or if she did that she could convince her to come back.  Viola hadn’t said that Ori had been taken prisoner… just that she froze. That meant it was possible she went willingly with him.  

Tara stood up.  There was no time to dwell on what might have been and what might yet be.  They finally had a direction. It was time to move.

Chapter 5: Gambling with Lives

Viola awoke as the plane touched down in Florence, reaching instinctively for her gun under the pillow. Unfortunately, she was reaching with a hand that no longer existed. Sighing, she withdrew the gun with her other hand, checked the safety, and wrestled it into its holster. Standing, she made her way to Tara’s office, where she walked in and sat in the chair across from the desk.

“Florence? I saw Il Duomo. What’d you learn?”

“It was as you heard, Oriana killed the man but before he breathed his last he confessed that Francesco was apparently seen near a Cathedral. He complained about tourists.  I don't know what to make of that but he mentioned a high stakes poker game in Tuscany. So…” She sighed. “We’re going to follow up with some information brokers and see if we can get into the game.  Have you known Francesco to be much of a poker player before?”

“Occasionally. He has an unnatural skill at reading people. Always seems to know what others are thinking. ”

Tara had never been very good at poker.  The Byrne talent for it hadn’t exactly found it’s way to her, much as it seemed to have eluded her mother.  The oddity was, that so far of all the children, Brigitte was the most gifted at cards. Gavin could toss dice, though admittedly Jack was better, but Brigitte could bluff anyone.  

The girl was uncanny.  If she had to put money on Brigitte versus anyone in a hand of poker the only person she might have bet on before her sister was her Grandfather and that on legend alone.  Fact of the matter was, the two of them had never played so far as she knew. It was entirely possible Brigitte was superior to even him, though she’d never speculate that to her mother.  After all, who could help but staring at a pretty blonde (whom many people regarded as dumb for some reason) and not be amazed at such a gift? It was Tara’s honest opinion that most women wanted to be her sister and most men wanted to be with her.  If anyone had a chance at the poker tables with Francesco around, Brigitte was her best (if not only) bet.

“Why do you suppose he’s so gifted at reading people?  Is it just women and young girls he has this power over?  Or is it men too?”

“He always knew what we were thinking, but that’s less impressive, because you know how he shaped us to think. Francesco isn’t a wizard; he’s a strategist. He’s better at chess than poker.”

Tara nodded.  “How are you feeling?”

“Well enough to walk. Not well enough to run.”

Tara reached to toy with the ring that wasn’t there and instantly scolded herself silently for it.  She picked up a pencil and tapped it. “Well, with the odds being that he might be present at this thing, and you not feeling up to running perhaps we’d better not tempt fate?  I want you alive to spend my mother’s money and even if he’s not there, but his associates are, I don’t want to find out by seeing you get a hole blown through you for your troubles.  I think I’ll probably have our resident scout help us making connections with the information brokers and assuming we can get within a mile of the poker game then I’ll have to decide who is best to send.  My gut tells me to trust my sister on this one but who can go with her will largely depend on where this game is located and who is going to be there. What sort of event it is.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Assuming he’s not at the poker game, and that’s highly possible considering recent events, the best we’re going to be able to hope for is probably more information gathering.  Of course, he’s put the word out that no one should talk to Americans with questions, yes?”

“Lots of Americans have lots of questions about lots of things. If Francesco threatened something that broad, he could never back it up. I think the information embargo, so to speak, only extends to anyone passing along information about him. Especially to Americans.”

“Unfortunately, he’s largely who we are asking about right now.  Chances aren’t good he’s letting anyone see or interact with Oriana, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t ask about him, them. Just ask about a big poker game. See what they say.” Viola half-shrugged. “If you don’t get anything just asking about the game, then push more directly.

***

Renato returned from Florence after being gone for three hours, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he reclined in the chair across from Tara, seemingly enjoying the view. 

“I have news, il mio bellissimo capo americano.”

“Regale me.  What did you learn?”  Tara leaned back in her high-backed leather chair and ignored the man appreciating her appearance.

“I went to the information broker you recommended. Donatello Fallo. The man was in a wheelchair. Apparently, a few weeks ago, a beautiful woman with brown hair showed up in his office demanding information about Francesco Bianchi.”

Tara beamed, sitting forward in her seat, unable to remain neutral.

“She shot him in both knees until he talked.”

“Well, can’t say she doesn’t have a sense of irony… what did he tell her?”

“Apparently a man named Mario Cunio used to run the richest poker game in Tuscany- one that Francesco Bianchi had played in during the last month or so. You will notice, I think, that I used the past tense, no? Mario Curio is dead. His house has been burned to ashes, along with half his vineyard. It seems, eh, obvious who might have done this. Fallo, your information broker, said that we should go to this burned down villa- that the people who live around it have valuable information.”

“You’re earning that paycheck, Ren.  Nice work. I’ll check with Viola and see if the name rings any bells with her and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Grazie.”

Renato left, sending Viola in. She looked at Tara with curiosity. 

“Well?”

“Mario Curio, name ring any bells for you?”  Tara fiddled with the pen in front of her.

“Associate of Francesco. Rich. Has a vineyard. Card player. Heard some rumors that he died, other rumors that he split the country.”

“Vineyard is pretty well toast, apparently Ori caught up with him.  He was the man hosting the tournament. Information broker suggests we go to the village and talk to the residents, see if we can’t learn something there.”

“Seems like the only lead you have. They’d know more than anyone who wasn’t at the poker game. That’d be the only other avenue I can think of. If the people there don’t know anything, ask them about who else is at the game.”

“Might not be a bad idea to pull that plane trick of yours at this point.  Thought about doing it last stop, but I have to admit it’s hard to part with the comforts and speed when we’re already so far behind.”

“Your call. Strategically, I’d wait until it makes sense. You don’t want to be on a train for 12 hours. On the other hand, the private jet does tend to stand out. Who’s going to the villa with you, if that’s where you’re going?”

“Laurent and Jo on this one I think - might need a nurse never know in a small village how often they get decent medical caregivers coming through and it can be a way to earn trust if we need to … plus she’s getting better with the language.”

“Sure. I was mostly wondering if I was going, but that’s fine, " said Viola.

The corner of her lip twitched ever so slightly.  “I could use a native. You might get further with the locals than any of us can hope for, your training come in handy that way I’m sure.  I’ve seen how well Ori can disappear into a crowd, I’m guessing you’re just as good at it. Might need that sort of skill. If you’re feeling up for it?”    

“As long as I don’t need to run, lift anything too heavy, or need two hands. Talking, I can handle. I just don’t like sitting still.”

“God willing this will be a lot of walking and talking.  Making good with the locals. Pretty sure you can handle that, and if not, you’ll rest on the next outing and get your strength back up.  Like I said, I have zero interest in putting you in a position to catch bullets.”  

“Agreed, about the catching bullets part.”

Tara stands up and makes her way around the desk.  “Might as well get a move on.”

“Agreed there, too.”

***

The small town they traveled to was odd; there were many small houses, but the heart of the town had been the luxurious villa and winery. With this heart removed, the rest of the town was like a body waiting to die. As Tara, Laurent, Jo, and Viola pulled up to the villa, they saw several people who could potentially answer some questions: a shepherd leaning against a post near the burned-out old villa, a small tavern that would almost certainly have some sort of bartender, and a pair of old women who seemed to be washing clothes in a basin. A long row of trees grew on the other side of the burned down estate, and the soil was still black where the fire had raged.

“Who should we talk to?” asked Jo.

Tara looked to the shepherd and thought instantly of her Lord and Savior.  The irony. And yet, there was something to be said for omens. Her mother seemed to trust in them and it had served her well enough, so why the hell not stick with what was familiar?  After all, if they went to the women and they were rebuffed by them, it was highly unlikely the men would hear them out. Best to try her luck with the men first, or so she told herself.

“Let’s hope the Shepherd cares for the one more than just the ninety and nine.”  She began walking towards the young man.